


sear

by kinpika



Series: merde, je t’aime tant [18]
Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Blow Jobs, Castiel's the one against the wall, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 23:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “What about your dress?” Castiel asks, casually, as he could already see the telltale marks of stains being left behind by his fingertips alone.“Dry-cleaning. Later.”





	sear

**Author's Note:**

> apparently it's been nearly a year since i posted this so i thought i'd finally throw it up on ao3
> 
> ft. gigi

Castiel can’t say for sure if he remembers where he is, when he’s the one against the wall. And he feels like he has to justify that he wasn’t always back pressed against whatever solid surface was nearby, but it definitely thrilled him. Image to keep be damned, especially when Gigi kisses him hard, teeth finding his lower lip, nibbling just there.

With a groan, Castiel’s hands find her hips, fumbling through material to find skin. Something. Anything. She’s warm under his hands, sparks under the tip of his fingers as he travels up her back. Dress drawing higher as he goes, constricting finally at a point. Confirming only what he had been thinking the entire night.

“No underwear?”

The little laugh in his ear was answer enough, taking his breath away. All night. She’d been on his arm all night, dressed in this glittering gold dress, and he’d been none the wiser. “Planning this for a while, huh?”

“Maybe. Was planning on waiting until the hotel room, but I think you can have part of your present now.”

Whatever the noise was that left him, Castiel knew it was a mix of several things. Especially when her hands went south, fingers splayed, dragging down his chest. He can’t hold onto her dress, then, not when her shoulders seem to be the safest bet of a centre. Solid and steady, eyes open as she kisses him. Castiel wasn’t sure where this Gigi came from, but he wasn’t about to argue against it. Not when she finds the buckle of his pants, pulling at it earnestly.

In a small attempt to distract himself, mostly, and ignore how she was palming him through his jeans, Castiel finds himself asking “What’s the rest of my present?” 

Gigi’s eyes flash, pupils blown, lipstick barely hanging on. Her smile hasn’t left, just grown deeper. “You, me, a few of my favourite things. Twenty-four hours to catch up on a lot of things.”

Castiel could feel himself _shake_ at such a suggestion. Oh, he remembered exactly what she liked. How she liked it. Even after they’d parted, some nights he’d spent, stroking himself, thinking about her spread on his bed, hair fanned over his pillows, trying to press her knees together. Screaming. 

“What are you thinking about?” Gigi is the one asking questions now, but they have a very specific course, he knows that. A lot of power was being placed in her hands, and Castiel was beyond worrying. Not when she’s got a hand in the band of his pants, meeting his cock. He could’ve come, just then, from her touch. 

Some significant willpower was involved, as was answering her question. Distraction. Think of something else. “Fucking you.”

“Oh? How so?” And Gigi could play coy all she wanted, but even with how hazy it was getting, Castiel could see the telltale signs this was getting to her. Chewing her lower lip, pressing her thighs together. She thought she was so subtle. _Well._

Castiel would just have to show her, then. A little more power leaned his way, as he leaves her shoulders, following the line of her body down, towards the hem of her dress. Thumbs press along the line of her thighs, teasing them open. Rising higher, exposing skin by millimetres as he goes, goading Gigi into parting, just for him. She sighs, a soft noise, barely noticeable, as he finds her, hot and wet, sticky on his fingertips. “Just like this.”

Smug in response, Castiel strokes gently, lightly, enough to keep her on her toes. Clearly, it was working, from how her eyes fluttered shut, and she had to hold onto his arms to keep steady. Hair stuck against her forehead, Gigi is flushed and beautiful, trying to encourage him, trying to keep him there. 

What a good present. And Castiel tells her so, as he presses against her lips. 

That seemed to snap her out of whatever happy state she was in. Gigi looks at him then, a wicked smile on her lips. “No no, my turn tonight.” Clearly, it took something in her to push his hand away, as she swayed a little more than she should’ve. But Castiel didn’t push her, hands on hips, centring  her.

“What about your dress?” Castiel asks, casually, as he could already see the telltale marks of stains being left behind by his fingertips alone.

“Dry-cleaning. Later.”

And with that, Gigi returns to him. No hesitation in her, as she edges him off the wall, just enough, to shimmy his jeans and underwear down. Thankfully it wasn’t cold in the room, or Castiel was sure he might’ve shrivelled up immediately. But he hangs between them, tense and a feather touch away, thankful for the focus on Gigi, long enough to get some control.

Gigi wears a heavy gaze, keeping her eyes on him as she slowly drops to her knees. If his belly wasn’t already so tight, Castiel was sure that he might’ve just been completely undone from that look alone. How long had it been since he’d seen something like that, firsthand (too long, his mind supplies, the only sane thought thus far).

When she was settled, she doesn’t hesitate. Encouragement, with her hands on his ass, pushing him forward, tip of his cock just against her lips, smearing precome over cherry red lipstick. A guttural groan leaves him, and Castiel wanted to warn her that he was _this_ close already, but he might’ve gone past the point of no return, not realising it just yet.

Head falling back against the wall, Castiel feels himself be spread just a little, a hand finding a way between his legs to stroke his balls. Strange, welcome, hot. Has him twitch upwards, into her waiting mouth. Wet, slick sounds fill the air, coupled with Castiel’s groans of ‘fuck’ and ‘Gigi’ and maybe ‘goddamn’. Lost into nothing as she moves her head to a perfect rhythm, back and forth, no signs of needing air drastically apparent. Encourages his hands in her hair, which really doesn’t help his situation at all, not when he twists black locks between fingers and pulls. He could feel it. A shift in the world. Sliding his eyes shut. 

It took everything not to shove himself further down her throat. Gigi continues, pumping him through with her free hand, the other having moved to holding him steady. Not the longest time on record, and something that may have been an apology tumbles from his lips. Everything was twitchy and hyperaware, like a live wire had gone off in his brain. Sparking down his back, not making him want to move. 

Gigi was nothing if not efficient, with how she neatly packs him away, back into his underwear with a little kiss, jeans zipped, belt done up. By the time he was even remotely aware, she was upright, smoothing her own dress out, clearly impressed with herself. 

“Holy shit.”

Licks her lips, shiny and smeared. Hair in disarray, barely covering herself, knees the telltale sign of being down. Castiel wasn’t grossly romantic, of course not, but everything about her was another kind of beautiful, and he kisses her. Tastes himself, and something sweet, hands bunching up her dress, a light smack on her ass. If there was ever a way to celebrate his comeback tour, he might’ve just found it. 

“Can’t wait to see the rest later.”


End file.
